There’s been a lot of this:
But this morning Gilly was strong enough to go the press loft and hang around with everyone, alternately napping and schmoozing for cookies. It tired him out something fierce, but after a deep sleep and another med round, this afternoon he was pleased to discover ripe grapes –
and ripening plums:
We’re going a single day at a time, or even hours at a time, right now.
But he does have special permission to attend a mountaintop poetry reading on Sunday, with me in attendance as his service-human.
* * *
Edited to add, the poetry reading on top of Mount Greylock (Sunday 9.8.13) –
And Gilly’s last night sky.